Honestly
by Sloane Johnson
Summary: Blake González believed asking for help, for any reason whatsoever, was a sign of weakness. Having to ask for help meant having to let go of whatever control you might have, on whatever shred of dignity you might still possess. That's how Blake saw it. It didn't matter how well she knew the person or how well she trusted them, she just couldn't ask them for help.
1. Beginning

_What is happiness to you, David?_

-Julie Gianni; **from 2001's Vanilla Sky**

* * *

Life always seemed so. . .dreary. There never seemed to be an ounce of good that ever came out of it. People kept trying to hype up all these different things, all these amazing products, but they all sounded the same. They all _felt_ the same. What was the point, anyway? It was the same pattern, right? Get everyone hyped up, and then let them drown in the monotony of it all? It was almost pathetic. But was that really the _big_ issue? There were _so_ many things in the world that were worth peoples' time and effort, but not a single person seemed to care.

What was the point, then?

Blake let out a sigh, her dark hair falling around her face, practically hiding her from the outside world. Was that a good thing? Relying on something for protection? That was a controversial thought. Blake couldn't say for sure, honestly. She liked to think that her hair was kind of like a shield. It was attached to her _body_ , which meant it was _her_ way of protecting _herself_. She wasn't relying on others, she wasn't causing any problems.

Or, even better, she wasn't desperate.

Having to rely on others for help was a sign of desperation. It was a sign of _weakness_. Blake felt as though if she were to ask someone for their help, she was admitting to being weak. She was admitting to, essentially, not being strong enough to handle her own issues. That was the _one_ thing she couldn't stand.

 _Relying on others brings nothing but trouble._

 _If you're ever going to make it in the world, you can't trust anybody but yourself._

 _Everyone else will disappoint you. You don't need them. You're better than all of them._

With a dry chuckle, Blake wrapped her arms around herself. She didn't have time to blindly trust others. She had to worry about keeping herself alive. Or about as alive as she _could_ be. It was hard to tell, being half-human and all. Blake was in a limbo between life and death. She stood on the line, not knowing where she fit in in the world. Could she live a normal life with humans, or find a place amongst the ghosts? She hated that question.*

She hated a _lot_ of things.

Looking up, Blake saw the countless people walking by. They looked so care free, so preoccupied with the things going on in their lives. How unfair was that? What gave everyone else the right to live so naturally?

Furrowing her brows, Blake looked down, a scowl forming itself on her face. Maybe it was a little selfish of her to think that way. She had no control over other peoples' lives, and it would be wrong of her to think she _could_ control them.

 _But it's in your blood, isn't it?_ a voice whispered. _The need to rule, to dominate. That's what makes you so unique, so valuable._

That _damned_ voice. It filled Blake's head whenever she had doubts about anything, whenever she found herself questioning her very nature. She _hated_ that voice. Her heritage could not determine the kind of person Blake was. She was her own person, she could determine the kind of person she was going to be. No one else had the _right_ to choose for her.

 _You'll see it. . .One day, I know you will. . ._

Blake _prayed_ that day would never come.

 **u.u***

Ghosts. . .they tend to not be good conversation starters. Anyone who even _hints_ at being a believer in the otherworldly are often looked at in scrutiny, as if they're completely insane. In Blake's case, if she were to casually mention that she's half-human, half-ghost, people would _absolutely_ believe she's insane. They'd look at her as if she'd grown a second head and just spoke in tongues. It would definitely be an experience.

On the _other_ hand, though, there were the ghost fanatics. The ones who spend their entire lives _obsessing_ over anything paranormal. It could be seen as incredibly unhealthy, because it _is_ incredibly unhealthy. The last thing Blake would want were ghost extremists hunting her down, attempting to do all kinds of experiments on her. That would be horrifying. So, with the minimal human interaction she's already had, Blake knew better than to expose her _little_ secret. She couldn't afford anything else going wrong in her life.

But let's be a bit honest — there are _plenty_ more things that could go wrong in Blake's life. _Plenty_. While optimism is always appreciated, sometimes it clouds what's really going on in the world. It takes people _away_ from reality. That's how Blake sees it. Optimism is only beneficial in small, appropriate amounts. So the teen believing that her life couldn't _possibly_ have anymore blows is absolute rubbish. Fourteen years of dealing with the bullshit of other people, Blake practically _expected_ things to go wrong. She welcomed it with open arms. How else was she supposed to handle it all, anyway? It's not like she was given other ways to handle her life. It was all one, big, jumbled mess. And that is putting it mildly.*

So. . .mentioning ghosts? Completely out of the question. Having gratuitous amounts of optimism? It's nice, but unnecessary. Expecting the bad out of everything? Natural. That was how Blake handled her life. That was how she _always_ handled it. Did she find it hilariously pathetic? Yes. Was she devastated by how miserable she'd become as a result? Also, yes.

But after all the _crap_ Blake had to go through, all the moments in her life that made her change, what could _she_ do to change herself?

 **u.u**

"You look tired."

Looking up for a moment, Blake's mouth set into a deep frown. She recognized that voice. That _stupid_ voice.

"I'm fine," Blake grumbled. She lowered her gaze, hoping to avoid seeing _her_.

"I can tell when you're lying, remember?"

 _Of course you can,_ Blake thought bitterly. _Why not add that onto the list of other things you can do?_

It was stupid, ridiculous, traveling with someone who can pick up on the lies of others. Any word that slipped past Blake's lips could be quickly categorized as truth or lie. How frustrating was _that_?

"Can't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"Why does it matter to you?"

"I'm your guardian."

"Not anymore."

"You're being immature, Blake. Seriously."

"I'm being _honest_ ," Blake snapped. "You didn't _have_ to follow me. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."

"You're fourteen."

"Your point?"

"How you're behaving right now? That's _exactly_ my point. You're still a _child_ , you don't know what it takes to live in the real world."

"And _you_ do?" Blake raised her head, brushing some of her dark hair out of her eyes. A scowl had formed on the teen's face, but her companion remained unfazed. "If I recall correctly, you're from the _Ghost_ _Zone_."

"That doesn't mean I don't know how harsh life can be."

"Quinn, you're a ghost," Blake hissed, her eyes blazing in anger. "You've spent all your time living in a parallel dimension. How can you understand how difficult it is out here?"

Letting out a deep sigh, Quinn crossed her arms over her chest. In a lot of ways, Blake had a point. Living in the Ghost Zone was completely different than living in the human world. But there were some similarities in how ghosts and humans behaved. Both species were very manipulative, looking for new angles to better themselves. Both species were more than willing to go the distance the secure themselves powerful positions in their worlds. Blake couldn't quite understand that. It was to be expected though, the not-understanding. It took Quinn a while to truly get the hang of how the Ghost Zone worked. It took her even longer to understand how her fellow ghosts behaved and interacted, as well. They seemed to be a bit more bloodthirsty when compared to humans, though. Or was that just Quinn imagining things?

"It doesn't matter what _I_ am, okay?" Quinn stated. "My sole purpose is to keep you safe. And when you ran away, I couldn't just let you get yourself _actually_ killed. What kind of guardian would I be if you really died?"

"You're _not_ my guardian anymore," Blake snapped.

In an instant, Quinn placed a cold, pale hand over the teen's mouth. Unwanted attention was being drawn to them. They were both residing in a park, one brimming with families, romantic partners, and people with their pets. A nice place to spend the day. Everything had been quiet and peaceful before Quinn had returned.

But when that little outburst came out of Blake's mouth, there were a few people who'd heard. They were giving the pair strange looks, some of the people walking by would linger longer than necessary. It was unsettling. With a heated glare thrown Blake's way, Quinn removed her hand from the teen's mouth.

"You need to _lower_ your voice," Quinn seethed. "We are supposed to be keeping a low profile, remember?"

"How long do you think _that'll_ last?" Blake muttered, moving herself away from her companion.

"I'm hoping to keep it going for as long as I can," Quinn grumbled. "Only it's a bit hard when you make everything so difficult."

 _Tell me, does Quinn have the right to be ordering you around?_ that small voice whispered. _Earth is your domain, Blake. You've earned this world. Ruling the humans should be simple, yes?_

No. If there's one thing that's obvious, it's humans are difficult to control. If they're put in a situation they don't like, they'll riot and cause all _sorts_ of problems. Blake didn't want to rule them. She never _had_ any intentions of ruling them. What would be the point, anyway? Humans were dull creatures, in the teen's eyes. They were incapable of seeing things for how they really were.

"One of these days, our luck is going to run out," Blake murmured. "We'll get caught, and we'll _both_ get punished for it."

"I don't doubt a punishment would happen," Quinn agreed. "But that will only happen _if_ we get caught."

Narrowing her eyes a little, Blake let out a sigh. Quinn's optimism. How sweet.

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **First off, sorry for the wait on the chapter. Hopefully you guys at least tolerate it. If you've got any constructive criticism you'd like to give, I'd be more than happy to hear it. I feel like the more advice and feedback I get from you guys, the better this story will be. But that's only if I get help from you guys.**

 **Nothing in the DP fandom belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and the laptop I'm currently typing on. If you've got ideas for OCs or subplots, be sure to PM me or leave a review. I'll add them in as soon as possible.**

 **If you've got a random fact, be sure to drop it in the review section. It could be on something new or it could be on something old. It's completely up to you guys.**

 **Thank you all so, so much!**

 **Be kind to one another, okay?**

 **Sloane Johnson**


	2. One

_Cross my heart and hope to die_  
 _You never cross my fucking mind_  
 _Do you know what your little lies do?_  
 _You know what I had to fight through_  
 _Nothing that you say is mildly true_  
 _Spit deceit through shifty smiles_  
 _Two faces you've had for a while_  
 _You act like such a fucking child_  
 _Who are you now?_

-Honestly (Encore); **by Gabbie Hanna**

* * *

"Blake González, the world's second known halfa." There was a brief pause, one that seemed to grow heavier the longer it lasted. "What do you want _me_ to do with her?"

"Isn't it obvious, Clockwork?"

"It's her _heritage_."

"She has the potential to become the biggest threat known not only to Earth, but to the Ghost Zone, as well."

With a huff, Clockwork turned to look at the figures behind him. The time ghost had spent a good minute or two glancing at his time portal, observing the halfa in question. He understood the concerns, he knew there were dangers with her being alive, but he felt it wasn't his responsibility. What difference did it make if there was a halfa out there? It's better she be on Earth than stuck in the Ghost Zone.

"That's still no concern of mine," Clockwork responded, his form changing from a young boy to an old man.

"You're the ghost of _time_ , Clockwork."

"We _must_ preserve the sanctity of humans _and_ ghosts."

Transforming from an old man to a young adult, Clockwork pursed his lips and turned his gaze back to his time portal. He'd paused the stream on an image of Blake González. She _had_ to have been around fourteen at the time, with her dark hair curled and unkempt. She looked almost pitiful, in Clockwork's eyes. But that didn't excuse the request being given to him. It wasn't the first time "higher up" ghosts went to him to take care of their problems. In fact, it seemed like it happened on an almost daily basis.

But, of course, Clockwork knew he was exaggerating to an extent. Not every "higher up" ghost went to him for assistance. There were _plenty_ of other, more capable beings in the Ghost Zone. Besides, Clockwork liked to keep to himself. It gave him the chance to just watch, maybe interfere when things got a little too rough. That was his job, after all.

Looking at the figures behind him, Clockwork's eyes narrowed _just_ slightly. They were very persistent. They believed, wholeheartedly, that the annihilation of Blake González would restore some kind of balance. Sure, Clockwork was aware of the halfa's heritage, but what use would there be in killing her? What if she had the opportunity to become something else? It'd be an interesting turnout. The infamous _Blake_ _González_ , daughter of the most powerful ghost in the Ghost Zone, _not_ destroying everything in her path. Or, more importantly, not turning into a homicidal maniac.

That almost made Clockwork smile.

"Like you said," Clockwork drawled, "I'm the ghost of time. I don't interfere in human affairs unless it's absolutely necessary."

"This _is_ necessary."

"The lives of _billions_ are on the line."

"Does that mean _nothing_ to you?"

"There are a _lot_ of things that mean nothing to me." There was a brief pause as Clockwork transformed into a child. His hand gripped his staff tightly. "This halfa _will_ become the most powerful being the world has ever seen. . ."

"Another reason to destroy her!"

"But there will still be _one_ other halfa in existence," Clockwork added.

"Plasmius."

"Killing Blake won't solve this halfa issue of yours."

"Vlad Plasmius gained his powers through a failed experiment. Blake González was _born_ half-ghost."

Transforming into an old man, Clockwork sighed. There was no use getting through to them. They wouldn't listen to him, it didn't matter what he said. So why not go along with their little game?

 **u.u**

Blake could practically _feel_ Quinn's eyes burning into her. It was a little hard to ignore, honestly. The two had remained in the park for a number of hours, sitting on a bench and watching people go by. It was natural, almost soothing. _Almost_. There was this. . . _feeling_ in the pit of Blake's stomach, one that she was finding very hard to ignore. For the teen, it was a very familiar sensation.

Was there a ghost coming? Did Blake have to run? Would Quinn have to do something reckless?

Questions kept filling Blake's mind, filling her with a sort of uncertainty. The need to be safe was very important, but so was the desire to be completely invisible. While Quinn and Blake possessed the ability to _actually_ turn invisible, that wasn't enough in their eyes. They just wanted to go through life without drawing a lot of attention to themselves.

"How're you feeling?" Quinn glanced at Blake for a moment.

Blake only snorted in response.

"I don't understand why you can't just answer the question."

"I don't _want_ to answer it."

"You know the best way to blend in is to look as normal as possible, right?" Quinn hissed, glaring at Blake. "I was _asking_ if you're alright because you're brooding again."

"I _don't_ brood."

"Oh, of _course_ you don't," Quinn grumbled. "You just look miserable all the time and wonder why people give us weird looks."

"People _give us weird looks_ because you chose the shittiest human disguise ever," Blake sneered.

In a way, the statement was true. Quinn's human disguise could be seen as sloppy, and that would be putting it mildly. In the Ghost Zone, Blake's companion was a shapeshifting type of ghost, one whose transformations seemed limitless. The only problem, however, was the way Quinn saw human beings. Some areas were a bit underdeveloped when compared to others. For some people, those little areas could be seen as disfigurements, and Quinn was doing what she could to make subtle changes. Being able to physically blend in with humans was harder than she thought.

"I'm still _adjusting_ , okay?"

"You should be done by now."

Quinn scoffed in response. _No shit,_ she thought.

A few moments of silence ticked on between the two, appearing to add a bit to the growing tension between them. But to make matters worse, that feeling in Blake's stomach seemed to become heavier. It was like someone had dropped a weight inside her, and it was the most uncomfortable sensation ever. But, in its own way, it felt familiar.

Blake felt herself unconsciously stiffen when the sensation intensified. She wrapped her arms around her middle, as if hoping that could relieve the feeling. She looked up for a little bit, her amber eyes scanning the people who walked by. Was there anything unusual about them? Were there any subtle differences? How would Blake be able to notice them?

 _You're looking too much into this,_ she thought. _You're probably just nervous or something._

Nervous about what? Blake had been in the park for most of the day. She hadn't been doing a whole lot, so it's not like she was drawing a _whole_ lot of attention to herself. But the chances of something going wrong were still possible.

"I think we should leave," Blake mumbled, looking over at Quinn.

A look of confusion came across the ghost's face. "Why?" she said. "Is something wrong?"

"Something doesn't feel right."

A hardened look came across Quinn's face. If Blake felt something was wrong, then that meant it was time to go. Whether or not the teen was aware of it or not, those little moments of unease that she felt were part of her ghost powers. If danger was nearby, then Blake's body would start shooting out hints to leave as quickly as possible. Quinn understood that feeling because she felt a milder form of it. All ghosts — maybe not all, but _some_ full-ghosts — felt a danger-meter go off in them whenever trouble presented itself.

"Okay," Quinn said, standing up. "Let's go somewhere else."

Nodding, Blake stood up and felt a little bit of relief at Quinn's words. If they could get as far from the park as possible, then maybe she'd start to feel a bit better.

 **u.u**

Clockwork watched with mild interest. Blake González was smart, she was able to catch on to the sudden change in atmosphere. The one thing that needed to be determined was how well her fighting style was. Clockwork had gone a couple decades into the future and personally hand-picked the best ghost available. It'd be a challenge, but for someone like _Blake_ , it should be a piece of cake.

Besides, depending on how the fight panned out, Clockwork would be able to come to a definite conclusion on how he wanted to handle Blake.

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **Sorry for the wait on this chapter, but hopefully you guys enjoyed it. Let me know if there's anything that could use some improvement. I'd appreciate any kind of constructive criticism you guys have to offer.**

 **Nothing in this fandom belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and the clothes I wear. If you've got ideas for OCs or subplots, be sure to PM me or leave a review. I'll add them in as soon as possible.**

 **In future chapters, I'll try and figure out good ways to explore Blake's background. I know it's probably a bit confusing right now, probably because my writing isn't the best, but I'll hopefully get better once I get familiar with this story. But, again, any help with ideas or whatever from you guys would be awesome!**

 **If you guys think you have ideas on what Blake's heritage might be, you can leave a review. I know I haven't done a whole lot on her background, but if you guys have any guesses, I'd love to hear them. We know she's half-ghost, so maybe like who her parents are and all that.**

 **Leave a random fact in the comment section! It could be on something new or old, it doesn't matter to me.**

 **Thank you all so, so much!**

 **Be kind to one another, okay?**

 **Sloane Johnson**


	3. Two

_Yo girl, feel a bit punchy?_  
 _She's not looking so well_  
 _Still, you've earned that red scrunchie;_  
 _Come join Heather in hell!_

-Yo Girl; **from the Off-Broadway Musical, Heathers**

* * *

 _God, why is the feeling getting worse?_

That feeling in Blake's stomach was getting worse. The heaviness seemed to have spread all throughout her abdomen, making her nauseous and uncomfortable. Her and Quinn were no longer in the park; in fact, they were far _away_ from it. So why did the feeling get _worse_?

"The feeling's still there?" Quinn asked, her voice quiet.

The duo were currently walking around a block, hardly looking or even interacting with the people around them. Quinn was trying to find a good place to keep Blake until the feeling went away, but there seemed to be a lack of private areas.

"It's been getting worse," Blake hissed. She was close to doubling over, that was how overwhelming it was getting. What was it supposed to mean? Was there a purpose behind it? Was it like any of Blake's other powers? It was hard to say. If Quinn knew anything about it, she wasn't saying. Which really sucked because knowing the reasoning behind the heavy-nauseous feeling would be very helpful.

"Once we find someplace quiet, I'm sure it'll go away," Quinn sighed.

 _In a place like this, I doubt it,_ Blake thought.

The two continued walking in silence, ignoring the people around them while hurriedly trying to find the promised secluded area. The task proved to be difficult, considering the area they were living in was a decent sized city. There were people pretty much _every_ where, going in every direction in hopes of getting to their destination. Blake found the citizens' hurried pace, their constant need to be outside, frustrating. Why cities had to be so overpopulated was beyond her understanding, but she felt like she'd get it one day. Quinn always said it was because of the teen's dreary outlook on life, maybe even a bit of naivete, that made her not comprehend certain things. Either way, it didn't really matter.

Cities, in Quinn's mind, seemed to be the best place to lay low. With the number of people who lived in them, it was easy to blend in. Plus, it gave the two of them new experiences in understanding human culture. With Quinn having originated from the Ghost Zone, and Blake's strange upbringing, it meant they were able to find a kind of common ground between the humans and themselves. Even if, in some ways, the two couldn't reveal their true selves to anyone else. Besides, who in their right mind would believe ghosts and half-ghosts really existed? Without a shadow of a doubt, Quinn and Blake would be ostracized for their beliefs in such things.

Blake just didn't like the number of people that seemed to populate everything. Humans seemed to be everywhere, even in the most isolated parts of the world. There was no escaping them, and it sucked. Blake liked to think of herself as a very introverted kind of person, for one because of her half-ghost status, and second because of how she was brought up. Humans, in her old life, were seen as inferior, not even compared to the dirt beneath Blake's feet. Maybe it was a bit egotistical, thinking that way, but the teen couldn't really see herself changing her point of view. In her mind, humans were very predictable.

 _Probably because of their similarities in ghosts,_ Blake had thought. Only, in some ways, ghosts were very different than humans. From what Blake understood about her mixed heritage, humans fought a lot more when it came to mediocre things. Land, oil, _money_ — ghosts didn't fight like that. A specific piece of land were given to ghosts, so they didn't have to worry about fighting over it. Ghosts also didn't seem to obsess over money, at least not the kind of payments humans had. There was a different kind of currency in the Ghost Zone, but it wasn't viewed as highly as humans viewed theirs.

"This way." Quinn's voice snapped Blake out of her thoughts. Looking over at her companion, the teen felt her brows furrow at the determined look on her friend's face. Without so much as a _warning_ , though, Quinn firmly grabbed Blake's upper arm and forced her into a filthy alleyway. The suddenness of it shocked the teen, forcing her to unconsciously try to yank herself from her friend's grip.

"What're you doing?" Blake hissed. She did everything in her power to try and free herself, but Quinn's grip only seemed to tighten with every pull.

With a sharp _hush_ , Quinn threw a heated look Blake's way. It was bad enough the duo were hurrying down some alleyway in a big city, but having to deal with a half-ghost teen's confused outbursts? That was _definitely_ not what Quinn wanted to deal with.

"Seriously, why're we going down some alley?" Blake exclaimed.

"I think you're forgetting we're trying to keep a low profile here," Quinn seethed. "If we're going to get out of this safely, then you need to be quiet, understand?"

Feeling her cheeks heat up, Blake nodded. She couldn't say she understood what was going on, but if it meant finding safety and seclusion, then it'd be best to just go along with it.

 **u.u**

Living on the run was not an ideal living situation for a fourteen year old girl. In fact, it wasn't — and shouldn't — be an ideal living situation for _any_ one. Having to deal with feelings of constant fear and helplessness; always having to look around, hoping to never run into any trouble — it was a nightmare. Blake chose to live that way because she couldn't deal with the outlandish, horrifying expectations her home life wanted from her. She'd done everything in her power to please her family, but it wasn't good enough. It was _never_ good enough. Quinn had been the only one in her home life who seemed to show any sympathy towards her. It was reassuring, but also had Blake feeling horrible. Why should anyone feel bad for her? She didn't _want_ anyone feeling bad for her.

That's how Blake interpreted sympathy — someone feeling bad for someone else. That feeling was unacceptable in her eyes. Absolutely unacceptable. In no way, whatsoever, should anyone feel bad for her. Sure, her home life hadn't been the best, and her family had been very dysfunctional, but sympathy was the _last_ thing Blake wanted from others. She viewed that emotion as weakness, or at least a foundation for weakness. It didn't do anyone any good feeling that way. Blake believed it made people feel and behave with too much vulnerability. Her family had been very thorough on how they felt on vulnerability. Blake picked up on it right away and made it her way of life. It's what kept her going.

But Quinn. . .she seemed to overlook all of that. She wasn't bothered by Blake's indifferent attitude. Well, maybe she was a _little_ concerned, but she learned to hide it. One of the fourteen year old's abilities seemed to be empathic in nature, so hiding emotions was an important skill to have. Quinn had to overlook a lot of Blake's differences in order to build some kind of relationship with her. In no way was it easy, but it paid off well in the end. The González family made the shapeshifting ghost a guardian. In all honesty, it was a huge honor to be given that title. All the hard work put in to having some kind of bond with Blake had paid off. The González family trusted Quinn enough to be around her.

It wasn't until Blake's teen years that things started to really change. The girl's parents became stricter, pulling the reigns on everything their daughter did. Quinn picked up on it almost immediately. The things Blake had to endure was gut-wrenching. The idea of running away was a good one, but Quinn couldn't help but feel worried about what her ward would be forced to go through on the streets. That's why she followed the teen. Out of concern and out of sympathy. In no way should a child be meant to feel so horribly in their lifetime. It wasn't right. Not in the slightest.

 **u.u**

"You haven't found her yet."

". . .No, sir. We lost her just outside of Wisconsin."

"Tell me; how hard is it to track down and locate a fourteen year old girl?"

"I-It, uhm, shouldn't be that hard, sir."

"You're right. It _shouldn't_. And yet, my daughter _still_ hasn't been found."

"W-We have some of our best trackers locating the girl and her guardian at this moment. Sir."

A scoff. "I'd hardly call that useless ghost a _guardian_. She allowed Blake to run."

There was a long pause. An uneasy feeling slowly filled the room, one that was too thick, too _tangible_ , to ignore. It was a very overwhelming sensation.

"I'll give you one last chance to locate my daughter. If you fail me again, I will personally ensure you pay for your failures."

"O-Of course, sir. I won't let you down."

With the sound of scurrying footsteps and the door opening and closing, the feeling of uneasiness remained for a moment longer. It was almost funny, how easy it was to manipulate emotions. People were so emotional, driven almost _mad_ by what they felt. That was one of the main reasons his empire was growing so fast, why he had so many followers. Their emotions were so easily controlled.

But Blake. . .she had to go and run. She had to become rebellious. When she came back into his care, she'd feel the wrath of what she'd done to her family. The embarrassment, the _shame_ — she'd feel every little bit of what her family had to endure in her absence.

 _That_ was a promise.

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **Be sure to leave constructive criticism where you think it's due. I'd love to know what you guys think could use improvement. If I don't know what's bothering you guys in this story, I won't know how to make it better. I don't know if that made sense, but I think you guys get the idea, right?**

 **Nothing in this fandom belongs to me.* All I own are my OCs and my subplots. If you've got ideas for OCs or subplots, be sure to leave a review or PM me and I'll add it in as soon as possible.**

 **As a head's up for you guys, if you see random asterisks/"*" in random places in future chapters, just ignore them. For me, that's how I keep myself focused. It helps me with my ideas and keeping everything flowing. So, that's the main reason why I have them in random spots like that.**

 **If you guys have any ideas on Blake's background, be sure to leave reviews.**

 **Leave random facts in the review section, if you want. It can be on new stuff or old stuff; it's completely up to you.**

 **Thank you guys so, so much.**

 **Be kind to one another, okay?**

 **Sloane Johnson**


	4. Three

_Take it or leave it_  
 _Find it and keep it some way_  
 _You want to be free but it takes more than walking away_  
 _If I'd only known what you needed_  
 _If I'd only been told_  
 _Taken the warning that should have been heeded..._

-Love Hasn't Been Here; **by the Michael Stanley Band**

* * *

The journey down the alleyway seemed relatively short lived. Quinn had ensured that Blake was taken as far from the populated sidewalks as possible, and it seemed to do a bit of good. The teen seemed less anxious looking, and she didn't look like she'd double over at any given moment. But, unfortunately, her arms were still wrapped around her middle. Quinn did have a bit of hope, though. Just a _bit_.

"I don't get what we're doing here," Blake grumbled, her eyes darting around. "How's an _alley_ going to help us?"

"I'd appreciate it if you'd stop complaining," Quinn exclaimed. "Why can't you just trust my judgment on this?"

"Because I don't know what to expect."

"All you have to do is _trust_ me."

"Do you even know where we're going?" Blake barked. "This alley could go _any_ where."

"I may not know where we're going, but we managed to get away from those people."

Getting away from those people. How was that at _all_ important? Maybe it was Quinn's way of keeping Blake from becoming overwhelmed, but it was hard to say. That heavy feeling _had_ subsided some since going down the alley, but it didn't make her feel any less unnerved. Being in a city, surrounded by humans and noise, was never an easy adjustment. Blake couldn't stand all the commotion that came with living in such overpopulated areas. It could help keep her hidden, but God only knows for how long.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Blake asked.

Quinn set her jaw, her grip on the teen's arm tightening. There was no response, and that was probably the most unsettling thing.

"You said you're my guardian, right?" The teen's eyes glittered angrily. "What aren't you telling me? If it's for my own safety, I think I should know."

Letting out a sharp sigh, Quinn looked at her ward with wide eyes. "You want to know what's wrong?" she hissed. "What's wrong is that I want to protect you, and you're becoming more difficult. There are things that need to be taken care of, and you're questioning every little thing that I do."

 _Things? What sort of_ _things_ _?_

Blake's eyes narrowed at that. Instead of arguing on what Quinn meant, she decided to keep her mouth shut. It was the best option, honestly. Seeing the look on her companion's face was something else entirely, and continuing to press the issue would only make matters worse.

 **u.u**

Being the child of one of the most powerful ghosts in the Ghost Zone had its perks. For starters, it meant inheriting a lot of their unique abilities. It was really awesome, knowing that one day you'd be able to do a whole bunch of cool things. Another perk is having a natural air of intimidation. Having that kind of reputation, without so much as lifting a finger, made life a helluva lot easier! Things would automatically be done, without even having to ask. It was almost like a dream come true. There was also the benefits of being the child of two worlds. Initially, it was believed that humans and ghosts could never procreate — and that was coming from the hard-core believers — but Blake's parents threw those theories out of the ballpark.

Blake González was living proof of everything that seemed _unnatural_. She was the first — and probably _only_ — known offspring of a human and a ghost. She was the first halfa to be able to live in both the Ghost Zone and on Earth. In fact, she had spent a good portion of her life _in_ the Ghost Zone. Living there was a good place to practice her growing abilities, but her human half kept her wanting to go back to Earth. Blake's conflicting halves made it difficult for her parents. Did she want to live her life as a powerful ghost? Or did she want to live the life of an ordinary human? It wasn't an easy decision. Her parents seemed to be making that choice for her. One wanted Blake to be the most powerful she could possibly be; the other wanted her to be the most _human_ she could possibly be. But because her ghostly parent had such a bigger influence, Blake became more in-tuned with her paranormal half.

God, just how different would Blake's life have been if she grew up human? What kind of person would she have become? It was hard to say. Maybe she'd have the same personality traits, even if she grew up in a more human environment. Maybe she'd be completely unrecognizable. For Blake, she found it to be a bit silly. She'd never imagined herself living _among_ humans. She imagined life filled with the paranormal with a dash of those lowly humans on the side. Who would've thought things would change so drastically?*

Never, not even for a _second_ , would Blake believe that she'd grow the _nerve_ to run away. Her life seemed so perfect before, even if, in its own way, it was kind of dysfunctional. Her parents fought nonstop; they had such opposing views on how to raise a family, and it seemed to be a never-ending cycle. Whenever Blake's parents were within a few yards of each other, they'd start yelling and cursing, shouting and getting in each other's faces. Needless to say, it was always a risky confrontation. With one being a powerful spirit, the fights could very well end horribly. But, they never did. It never went beyond yelling. Deep down, Blake had to wonder if her parents still had a semblance of their old feelings for each other. If that was the case, then maybe that was why they could never physically hurt each other. It was something to think about.

 _You don't have to worry about them anymore. You're out and living on your own now. Don't worry about how they're doing._

That thought would work its way into Blake's mind from time to time. Every time it did, it caused the teen's chest to constrict and her jaw to set. She didn't want to think that way, but she knew it was necessary. It kept her going, it gave her the motivation to be _free_ of them. Blake's parents seemed to have such an iron clad grip on her, that growing the balls to run off seemed almost thrilling. There was not a single doubt in the teen's mind that her folks had been blindsided by that. Their precious little girl actually _took off_! It was priceless! It was absolutely hilarious.* But living on the streets wasn't as funny.

Being a homeless teen was overwhelming. It was filled with plenty of paranoia. What kinds of people would be encountered? Where would be the safest place to sleep? What kinds of dangers lurk around the corner? It was like playing Russian Roulette — you had no real way of knowing.

Quinn was doing her best to keep Blake safe, but a ghost living in a strange world could only do so much.

And a halfa with no outside world experience could only do to help out.

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **Sorry for the wait and the poorly written chapter. I kinda ran out of ideas, so I tried to come up with the best ending I could. If you guys have any kind of constructive criticism, don't hesitate to give it, okay? That'll help this story progress.**

 **I own nothing in this fandom. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and a strong fear of spiders. If you've got ideas for an OC or a subplot, be sure to PM me or leave a review. I'll add them in as soon as possible.**

 **Be sure to leave random facts in the reviews. It could be on something new or on something old; I don't care which.**

 **Thank you guys so, so much.**

 **Be kind to one another, okay?**

 **Sloane Johnson**


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